Flesh and Bone
by Revalacy
Summary: Most people fear death. Huey Freeman is an exception to that rule. At least, he his for now. But soon all that is going to change. He is going to know the meaning of terror.
1. Foreboding:  Quiet Before the Storm

**_Flesh and Bone  
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><p><em>AN: This idea came to me when I was reading some old horror novels that I had stashed away at the back of my book case, and from listening to a lot of symphonic metal music. Not exactly Riley's choice of music, but it more or less fits with the plot. Normally I'd save stories like this for Halloween, but I'd rather not wait that long. This story is a major change from my usual fandom, but I think it's time to expand. Anyway, feedback is appreciated!  
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**DISCLAIMER: The Boondocks is the property of Aaron McGruder and Sony Entertainment. I am claiming no ownership, or making any profit from this story.**_  
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><p><strong>Foreboding - Quiet Before the Storm<strong>

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><p>Huey Freeman didn't consider himself easy to scare. In fact, there was very little that truly caused him any measure of significant fear. One of those things was not death. The eldest Freeman boy had never really been afraid of death. In fact, he would say (rather nonchalantly) that if it was his time, then there was nothing he could do about it. He had come to terms with the idea over the years. After all, working as a lone domestic terrorist under constant threat of injury and death not only from his work, but from the antics of his family, had given Huey reason to come to grips with the concept at a very early age. He'd been surrounded by it. His parents, his friends, even some of his neighbors had all died around him. Some would say that sixteen was a young age to be ready to die, but Huey would disagree. He would call it "being prepared."<p>

But he wasn't prepared for everything.

One thing he wasn't prepared for was his alarm going off nearly three hours late, nor the screeching of his brother when he stepped on one of his Playstation controls as he rushed around the room in a ritual mad dash to get ready for school before a beating followed his laziness.

"OW! GOD DAMN IT MUTHA FUCKA-" his brother shrieked, holding his foot and hopping up and down in place. Riley wasn't known for his spectacular balance, and the display ended up putting him flat on his face with a loud CRASH!

Huey shot upright in bed. "Riley, what the hell are you doin'?" he demanded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

From his prone position on the floor, where it appeared he wasn't bothering to get up, Riley simply replied, "Nigga why ain't chu ready fo' school?"

Huey's eyes traveled from his brother to the clock beside his bed. _7:48 am._ "Damn it!" he growled and leaped out of bed. He was just glad he'd showered the night previous. He hastily threw on jeans and an over-sized black t-shirt, clean socks and his sneakers and dashed out the door, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went. "Let's go, Riley!" he shouted up the stairway.

"Aight, aight, I'm comin'! Dayum," the other boy muttered under his breath and sprinted out the door. He slid into the passenger's seat of the car and pulled the door closed. Beside him, Huey had already started the car and had shifted the vehicle into reverse.

"You boys don't wreck that car!" a voice shouted, prompting Riley to roll down his window.

"C'mon Grandad, we ain't gon' wreck the damn car!" the teenager shouted back. Huey rolled his eyes and backed the car out of the driveway.

For being so close to winter, the weather was still relatively warm. Well really, the term "warm" was a gross understatement. It was hot. Hot enough, in fact, for Riley to continue wearing sleeveless shirts and for many of the students at Woodcrest High to wear shorts and other skin-revealing clothing. If the heat weren't so debilitating, Huey would have found it very strange indeed that the end of October was hotter than it had been all summer. And that wasn't the only odd thing that had happened since the summer. He'd only heard rumors and the odd late-night story on CNN, but word was getting around that disappearances were increasing. Sure, there were always kidnappings and murders, and the odd runaway, but it was never in a neighborhood like this. Places like this were so well-protected by police forces and neighborhood militias that horrible things never happened to the upper class white suburbanites who called this community their home.

It came as no surprise to Huey that the disappearances that _were_ close to the neighborhood were covered up as much as possible. They didn't want anyone thinking this was a dangerous neighborhood, or that anything bad ever happened here.

They pulled into the school parking lot as the first bell rang. _Warning bell..._ Huey thought as the brothers sprinted across the parking lot and into the school building. Huey made it to class in the nick of time. Riley, however, had vanished into the school basement to meet up with Cindy and terrorize the janitor. That was common, and it came as no surprise when later, Huey would see the janitor storming up and down the hallways, covered in red paint with a sign that read "NIGGA" plastered to his back.

Huey slid into his seat as the final bell rang, this time sparing the instructor sarcastic comments in favor of the blissful silence of his own thoughts.

That silence was interrupted rather quickly.

"Hey, how come you were almost late?" asked a girl beside him. She had large green eyes, poofy light-brown hair tied back into a single ponytail (or cotton ball, since it hardly looked like a pony's tale), light skin and a perky smile and only made Huey's scowl darken.

"Alarm didn't go off," he replied shortly and simultaneously pulled his book and notes from his bag. He stifled a yawn.

"It's not like you to sleep in," Jazmine mused, drawing stylized hearts on the front cover of her notebook with a red pen. He simply shrugged in response as the teacher made his way to the podium at the front of the room.

"Alright class, let's begin," the man said. He was scrawny and graying, probably in his mid to late fifties. Despite how much Huey liked to argue with the man, he was one of the few intelligent white people the boy had been taught by. Most of the others were ignorant, arrogant, and argumentative, but Mr. O'Brien was actually rather tolerable. The lecture began much as it did every morning by reading a passage from their workbook and then taking notes on various authors and literary pieces of interest. While he found distaste with the small number of black authors and artists, he had to admit that it wasn't all bad.

The hour wore on, but Huey was hardly paying attention. His focus was on the window. Something odd had caught his attention, like movement out of the corner of his eye. He stared, daring it to move again. Nothing happened, but when he turned his eyes back to the board at the front of the room, it happened again. A slight movement in his peripheral vision, like someone moving in and out of the window as quick as a flash. He looked again, and once again, nothing was there. He narrowed his eyes and turned away again.

The lights in the room flickered. Huey's eyes shot straight up to the ceiling. No one else seemed to notice. Why was it that when anything was ever out of place, he was the only one who ever paid attention? He'd been told repeatedly that if they'd listened to him, plenty of problems would be avoided. He couldn't fathom why still, no one listened.

The bell rang, and the class filed out of the room.

"What wrong, Huey?" Jazmine asked, walking in-stride with him towards their lockers.

"I thought I saw something outside the window," he replied evenly. In his situation, seeing things would merit a sense of fear. Not just out of viewing motion that could not be discerned, nor the flickering of the lights that no one seemed to notice, but because saying outright that one was seeing things would only earn a reputation of extreme paranoia or perhaps even so much as insanity. But Huey was different. Huey didn't lie, not even to protect someone's feelings.

That, and everyone already thought he was excessively paranoid.

"What do you mean?" the mulatto girl asked, pulling her locker door open and drawing out a textbook from its perfectly organized depths.

"Like something was moving but there was nothing there."

Jazmine paused and looked at him, one eyebrow arched. "Like a ghost or something?" she queried, nervousness dawning on her gentle features.

Huey shrugged. "I'm not sure, I never got a clear look at it. Coulda been a ghost." He paused and thought for a moment. "Coulda been students playing a prank. Maybe it was something _else_. Hard to say."

The girl's eyes widened visibly. "What do you mean something _else_?" she asked, swallowing hard. She hugged her book tightly to her chest. Huey had known that Jazmine was easy to scare, but the worry in her eyes was different. Something like concern, probably for his welfare. Or maybe it was simply fear.

"Dunno. Could be anything. We should get to class." He closed his locker door with a satisfying _click!_ and the pair made their way to the next class of the morning. Up until lunch, Huey and Jazmine's schedules were identical. They shared Classical Literature first, followed by American History, Calculus, and Introduction to Physics. Then came lunch. Usually, Huey and Jazmine would sit outside, where she would eat her home-packed lunch and talk about everything she'd heard that day and he would munch on something green and crunchy (often celery) while reading the newspaper. Sometimes they were joined by Riley and Cindy, and when he was there, Caesar as well. After that, their schedules diverged until their last period. Jazmine had Latin, Journalism, and then Gym, where she was joined by Huey after his Creative Writing and Human Anatomy classes.

"Alright you worms, get ready to run!" yelled the burly woman (who could easily pass for a man) with a grimy whistle hanging out of her gaping maw. The students called her "jowls" because of the flaps of skin that hung from her jaw and neck. Personally, Huey thought she looked more like an over-sized frog. The students filed out the door and collectively moved towards the track that was situated on the north side of the building. It was bordered on its far side by a wall of trees that lead off into an undeveloped forested area. Why no one had bothered to claim the plot of land was the subject of scrutiny for Huey and Caesar when the mood took them to discuss the flaws and greed of the local corporate moguls.

But today, something about the woods gave the students chills. Most of them attributed the cold to autumn and winter finally showing their faces. Huey's own feeling of being watched he knew to be coming from something in the trees. The class set out on their jog around the track. Huey and Jazmine, as usual, took up the front. This was mostly because the rest of the students preferred to jog slower so they could chatter idly as they ran (or because they were desperately out of shape). Huey, on the other hand, preferred to be removed from the group, and Jazmine tagged along. She always did.

"Huey, do you feel like someone is watching us?" she asked as they rounded the starting line and completed their first lap. Huey's eyes settled on the woods for a moment.

"Yeah, I feel it," he replied.

"What do you think it is?"

He was silent for a breath, then finally said, "I'm not sure. Could just be paranoia created by the shadows between the trees."

"Or something _else_?" Jazmine said in a half-whisper. He shrugged, but didn't answer. The pair rounded their second and final lap and stopped. Jazmine panted to catch her breath. Huey simply stood, arms folded, staring at the trees.

In the several minutes it took for the rest of the class to finish their run, Huey was able to spot something dark shift between one of the trees. He narrowed his deep umber eyes, trying to discern the black mass from the rest of the shadows. It was rather large and human-esque in shape, but from what he could glimpse at, it probably wasn't human. He blinked and the movement ceased, and the shape melted back into its surroundings. He shook his head.

"Something wrong?" Jazmine asked, finally standing to her full measure after catching her breath.

His eyes shifted from the woods to Jazmine's face, then to the teacher, who was wheezing from the effort of walking from the school to the track. "I'll tell you after class," he replied.

She blinked once, arching an eyebrow, and shrugged. "Okay then."

The rest of the period was filled with a very poorly-constructed game of softball. The teams were horribly uneven, with Jazmine, Huey, and six other students making up one and the rest of the class making up the other. He didn't mind though, because he more than made up for their lack of numbers. Mid-way through the game, a brawl broke out between four white students over the fairness of the mock-umpire's call. With some difficulty, the teacher broke up the fight and escorted the students involved to the front office, leaving the rest of the class to goof off until it was time to return to the locker rooms.

Most of the students had started playing catch or lounging in the bleachers, prattling away idly about gossip and how much their teachers/homework/parents/chores/life sucked. Huey found a soft patch of grass out in the field and lay down on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the clouds overhead.

As usual, Jazmine joined him.

"Something on your mind?" the girl asked him. Huey glanced sideways at her and shifted his eyes back up to the sky. He and Jazmine were the same age, and had been friends since they were ten years old. While he'd filled out with broad shoulders and lean muscle, she was still rather scrawny. Huey could only guess that it was probably because of the genes she'd inherited from her white mother, and Jazmine hated it. Even by white-girl standards, the girl was nearly flat-chested and left something to be desired in the width of her hips. She'd also given up trying to tame her unruly hair. Huey didn't mind. She was fine the way she was.

"And what was it you were gonna tell me?" she added to her previous question.

"The woods are giving me a weird feeling," he said at last. She looked down at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I think I saw something moving in the trees."

"Like a wild animal?"

"I dunno. Could be."

She chewed her lower lip nervously. "Huey, I'm scared."

"If it's a wild animal, then it's probably more afraid of us than we are of it."

"No, not that," she said, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I saw something on the news last night, about a girl that I went to elementary school with. She disappeared three weeks ago and hasn't been seen since. What if she's dead?"

He thought a moment. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Jazmine," he began.

"You never do."

"The likelihood of your friend coming home alive gets smaller and smaller with every day she stays missing. There are some cases where they show up a few years later, but compared to the thousands of unsolved cases of missing people, it's only a small fraction."

"I was afraid of that," she muttered. The pair lapsed into silence. A rogue softball flew over them and landed where Huey's head had been a moment previous. She could tell from the impression of his hair against the grass, where the ball was now. He had rolled a few inches away, narrowly missing the concussion that would have surely ensued. Glaring eyes turned themselves on the smug face who'd thrown the ball. "What the hell, Justin!" Jazmine demanded.

"My bad!" he shouted vaingloriously, laughing. "Wanna throw it back?"

"Not really..." Huey muttered under his breath, picked up the ball, and hurled it back. Jazmine giggled. The boy caught it, but the sudden flash of pain in his no-longer-smug eyes told Huey mission accomplished.

"Dude you didn't have to throw it so hard!" he moaned, but Huey had stopped listening. He was laying in the grass again, staring at the clouds. Jazmine scooted closer to him, staring at his face as he was lost in thought. She couldn't help but admire him. He was far more intelligent than anyone she'd ever met. And that wasn't an exaggeration. Of everyone she'd ever met, children and adults, Huey had more intellect than any of them combined. Hell, he was a _prodigy_.

Huey appeared to have notice her eyes concentrated on him, because he was looking back at her with one eyebrow arched. "Uh, Jazmine?"

She squeaked. "Sorry, I was spacing out!" she said hurriedly, covering her mouth with both hands. He looked away again, and she felt the breath in her chest ease again.

"C'mon, let's go," he said after several long minutes of silence. He got to his feet, offered his hand, and pulled her up beside him, then led the way to the building and to the locker rooms.

When he changed, Huey usually found a quiet corner and faced the wall. Being caught in the same room with a large group of rowdy, obnoxious white boys was annoying enough without having to strip near them. He pulled his jeans on, but as he prepared to tug his shirt over his afro, a towel hit the back of his head. He turned, eyes narrowed, to look at the culprit, who was, as he guessed, the same kid who'd attempted to give him a concussion with a softball.

"There a problem?" Justin Burns asked, his voice thick with smugness. His friends laughed.

"You tell me," Huey replied darkly, picking the towel up and tossing it into a nearby trash can. He pulled his shirt on and sat down to lace his shoes.

"Dude you just threw away my towel!" the boy said indignantly. "You want an ass kicking or something?" Huey simply shrugged without pausing, or even bothering to make eye contact. "Answer me, dickhead!"

A sigh escaped the black teenager and he got to his feet. He stood a full six inches over Justin Burns' head. "Look man, I don't have time for you or your stupid games. If you have a problem, tell me outright. Otherwise, back off."

Murmurs went around the group but Huey didn't care. He turned, picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed for the door.

"Yeah that's right, walk away!" shouted Justin behind him, and he and his friends exchanged high-fives and fist pounds.

Huey stopped, turned his head to look back, and said, "Look, if you're looking for a fight, then fine. But don't try to use me to make yourself look better. You'll just end up lookin' like a fool. Again." And with that he disappeared through the door.

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><p>"Mother fucker," Justin said to himself as he made his way to his car later that evening after his detention was over. He'd been sentenced to two hours after school, first for his outburst in the locker room and then for arguing with the teacher after being caught. Had he not been yelled at, he would have challenged the Freeman kid to a fight, just to put the pussy in his place. That would get him away from the chick he'd been hitting on for months, right?<p>

Justin was known for his jealousy. He coveted everything he didn't have. Cars, money, women, he could really have anything he wanted. His father was a major CEO for some white corporation that owned a good chunk of the country, and he gave his son everything he wanted. Justin had slept with many of the girls in Junior year, and even more in Senior year, just to brag to his other Junior-year friends that he had. When he'd noticed Jazmine Dubois, he had to try and have her, too. She was a virgin and a goodie-goodie, and she wasn't bad to look at. If he could take _her_ he'd prove that he was just that much better than everyone else. But when he'd made a pass at her, she'd turned him down cold.

That didn't sit well with him at all. He tried again just days later, only to meet the same stonewall. He tried a third and final time, this time aggressively. Jazmine had been afraid, he'd grabbed her arm hard and threatened her. Justin didn't like rejection. It made him furious. But then she'd cried out, and suddenly there was Huey Freeman. Justin had never fought over a stupid girl and lost before. Every time he'd had to fight for the girl, her friend, boyfriend, admirer, whoever would step up to defend her "honor." Oftentimes, they backed down. Other times, Justin out-right beat them down. But Huey hadn't backed down _or _lost the fight. All he'd needed was one solid punch and the fight was over, and Justin was knocked out. His pride had suffered.

He wanted revenge.

It didn't matter right now though. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to try again. Plans for the next day were flying through his head. He'd kick the black kid's ass and the girl would swoon for him. Watching a man fight for her would make any bitch put out. He pulled his keys from his pocket and rifled through the mass of jumbled metal to try and find the key to his car. "Damn it I can't see shit out here when it's this dark!" he hissed under his breath to no one in particular. The sun had nearly vanished below the far western horizon, and visibility was low in the twilight. He grumbled as he fiddled with the keys again and again, trying to find the one that fit the lock.

Then by accident, he dropped the keys. Justin swore loudly and bent over to pick them up.

When he stood upright, he felt something. Warm breath tickling the back of his neck. He whirled around, fists up, but there was no one there. His heart rate increased. Was it always so eerie in this parking lot? He swallowed and turned again. A soft brush went up his back and he turned around again, but still no one was there. A gentle breeze brushed him.

"Man fuck this place, I gotta get home," he said out loud. The sound was almost soothing, but it did nothing to quell his pounding heart. He turned back to the car once again, frantically now in his endeavor to open the door and retreat to the safety of the car, at last locating the key to the door. "Finally," he said, relieved.

He opened the door, but instinct told him to turn around.

Several blocks away, sitting at the top of their hill beneath their favorite tree, Huey and Jazmine were talking. Or rather, Jazmine was asking questions and Huey was responding with short, two or three word answers.

"So you think you could be President one day?" she asked, looking up at the stars that had begun to shine through the rapidly-darkening sky.

"Probably," he replied.

Then a blood-curdling shriek stabbed the air, laced with terror and absolute pain. It echoed off the buildings and the trees and rang over the grass and hills. The two stopped abruptly, the scream causing them to look at one another and then rapidly around to discern the source.

Huey sat up straight. "What the hell was that?"


	2. Foreboding: Domestic Disturbance

**_Flesh and Bone  
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><p><em>AN: This might be a bit late for a warning, but the characters in this story are going to be as in-character as possible. That means quite a lot of "foul" language. If you find the language in this story offensive, I wouldn't recommend reading this story.  
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><p><strong>Foreboding - Domestic Disturbance<br>**

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><p>"So you think you could be President one day?" Jazmine asked, looking up at the stars that had begun to shine through the rapidly-darkening sky.<p>

"Probably," Huey replied. He was laying on his back in the grass beside her, eyes fixed on the heavens.

A blood-curdling shriek stabbed the air, thick with terror and absolute pain. It echoed off the buildings and the trees and rang over the grass and hills. The two stopped abruptly, the scream causing them to look at one another and then rapidly around to discern the source.

Huey sat up straight. "What the hell was that?"

Jazmine's jade eyes searched the growing darkness frantically. "I dunno..." she whispered.

"C'mon," he said, pushing himself to his feet. He offered her his hand, which she took, and he pulled her to her feet.

From their hill, it was a ten minute jog to the parking lot of the high school. But they were sprinting at top speed, and there were no cars to dodge, so they made it in half the time. Jazmine was sure that if Huey hadn't slowed himself down so she could keep up, he would have made it two or three minutes. He was known for being fast.

The school parking lot was deserted. They slowed to a walk and padded across the empty pavement. "I'm sure this is where that scream came from," Huey mused, looking around. Jazmine folded her arms across her chest defensively. He could tell she was afraid. A bird squawked somewhere in the distance and she yelped and clutched his arm.

"What was that!" she whispered.

"It was just a bird, Jazmine," he said calmly. She nodded quickly. Through her grip he could tell her heart was pounding. "Take a deep breath. Your adrenaline has your heart rate elevated."

She inhaled deeply. "So what do you think that noise was?"

"A bird."

"Not that one," she said acerbically, giving him a pointed look. "The scream."

He was silent for a moment. "I honestly don't know," he admitted, his eyes seemingly gazing at something far away. He strode to the center of the parking lot and knelt down.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Looks like blood," he said from his position. He was crouched over a dark puddle on the ground. He dipped one finger into the shallow pool and smelled the liquid gingerly. "Yup, definitely blood," he confirmed. "S'a lot of blood though, whoever this belongs too is probably in bad shape."

She was trembling now. "I think we should go. I have a bad feeling," she breathed, looking around frantically. Huey wiped the blood on the pavement and got to his feet.

"C'mon, let's get outta here," he said, narrowing his eyes and looking around. Jazmine didn't respond. "Jazmine?"

He turned around. She was rooted to the spot, frozen in fear, one slender, trembling hand pointing off into the woods. Huey looked to see what she was pointing at. Two tiny gleaming lights that glowed through the shadows. He blinked, and they were gone. She was shaking. He sighed heavily and grabbed her hand. "C'mon, let's go," he said soothingly and pulled her along. Whatever the lights were, the points that looked like glowing eyes, they'd terrified her into a state of shock. Another sigh escaped them as they finally found themselves back on Timid Deer Lane and she had started to calm down. "You okay?" he said over his shoulder. She was only vaguely aware that he was gripping her hand.

"I... I... I..." she stammered and he stopped, turning to face her, and then gripped her shoulders tightly.

"Jazmine, _calm down_," he said. She was still trembling under his hands. "Listen to me. There is nothing to be afraid of, okay? Not while I'm here."

Her green eyes settled on his umber ones. "Are you... sure?"

"I don't lie, Jazmine."

She nodded. Her breathing began to steady and she closed her eyes. "Will... will you walk me home?" she murmured.

"I guess." He took her hand again and led her down the street, making sure she could keep pace without collapsing. The lights of her house were looming in through the shadowy distance. He stopped at the door and released her hand. "Can you manage getting into the house by yourself?" he asked flatly.

She nodded. "I think so."

"Call me if you have problems." She nodded again.

"Okay..." she murmured. She turned and reached for the door handle, but paused. Jazmine whirled around and wrapped her arms around his neck. From the moisture that was beginning to soak into his shirt, he could tell tears were running down her cheeks. "Thank you Huey," she sobbed. He patted her awkwardly on the back.

"There's no reason to cry, Jazmine," he muttered. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

She released him and wiped her eyes. "Sorry. Good night, Huey." And with that she disappeared into the house and closed the door behind her with a _click!_

He shook his head, brushed off his shoulder and strode across the street to his own house. The shouting from the other side of the door met him before he even turned the knob. He pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold, and closed it behind him.

"What the hell is wrong witchu, boy?" the older man yelled, waving a sheet of paper around in the air. "Why the hell did you paint the damn janitor!"

"Nigga was askin' fo' it!" was the youngest Freeman's shouted response. "'Sides, if he didn' wanna be red, nigga shoulda ducked!"

"Boy Imma beat you within an inch o' yo' life!" Grandad bellowed, and loosened his belt.

"Did I miss something?" Huey interjected, looking between the pair of them. They both paused.

"Where the hell 'ave you been?" Grandad demanded.

"I was hangin' out with Jazmine," Huey responded. "I told you where I was going."

"Yeah well don't you go an' knock that little girl up. We don't need anymore of yo' ass runnin' around here." Huey slapped his palm to his forehead. "That goes double fo' your dumb ass!" the old man hollered at Riley. "I mean it!"

"Damn Grandad, no one's gettin' knocked up!" Riley said indignantly. "You ac' like we're stupid or somethin'."

"Because you are!" he snapped.

Huey rolled his eyes. "If nobody minds, I'm goin' to bed." He left the pair of them shouting once again.

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><p>Huey's dreams had always been somewhat prophetic. He'd once predicted turbulence at a garden party, the return of Colonel Stinkmeaner, and a few other things. Tonight though, it was a little different. He shot upright in bed, breathing heavily, cold sweat beading his forehead. In the next bed, Riley was fast asleep. The house was quiet. Huey covered his face with his right hand and closed his eyes. The visions were vivid, nothing like he'd ever seen before. It was like it had been more than a dream.<p>

It was like he had been there. Like he'd _died_ there.

With his left hand he rubbed his sternum, the memory of the pain from the nightmare still fresh in his memory and on his skin. He'd had a lot of dreams in his life, but none of them had ever actually _hurt_. Just what the hell had that been? He pulled up his shirt to inspect the sore spot. Faintly detectable against the shadow of the room and the darkness of his skin was an angry red patch on his flesh. "The hell..." he whispered.

Deciding he didn't really want to go back to sleep, he slung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, crept around the bed and out of the room. After a quick stop to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, he made his way silently down the stairs and to the back door, where he stepped out into the cool night air and sat on the back step. Whatever that had been, a dream or a vision, it had shaken him up a bit. Well, more than a bit, he realized as he stared at his hand. He was shaking. Things like this didn't scare Huey Freeman. He wasn't afraid of dreams.

Now if it was a prophecy, that was another matter entirely. The eyes in his dream, the claws, the _blood_... it was too vivid.

"Stop thinkin' about it," he said sternly to himself and exhaled heavily. A gentle buzzing noise caught his attention, and he reached into his pocket. How had he forgotten his cellphone was in the pocket of his pants? His eyes flicked over the screen, and then softened for the briefest of moments. Then he flipped open the small piece of plastic and said, "Jazmine, you realize it's 3 in the morning, right?"

"_I'm sorry if I woke you Huey, but I was scared and didn't know who else to call_," his mulatto friend said. The fear was thick in her voice. He rubbed his temple with his free hand.

"What is it?"

"_I dunno if I'm hearing things or seeing things but there was something outside my window and it looked at me and now it's gone..._"

He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming?" He'd never felt like such a hypocrite before after what he'd just seen in his own prophetic dreams.

"_I think so... I'm not sure. Maybe... Huey, is there such thing as monsters?_" It was a strange thing for a sixteen year old girl to ask, but considering the events that were going on around Woodcrest, the question did bear some merit. Whatever she'd seen in the woods earlier that night had definitely been strange.

"I... don't know, Jazmine," he replied slowly. "But don't worry about it. Try and get some sleep." He heard her stifle a scream. "What is it?"

"_Please please please PLEASE come over here Huey, there's something out there!_"

He groaned. "Jazmine if my Grandad finds out I went over there in the middle of the night-"

"_PLEASE Huey!"_

"Alright, just let me find my shoes..."

"_Please hur-_"

The line went dead. He sat for a few moments, unsure if she'd hung up or if the call had been cut by someone, or something, else. Either way, he had to go check on his terrified friend. He rubbed his temples and got to his feet, making his way back into the house. Without making a sound, he pulled on and laced up his shoes, then crept out the front door. The cool night air brushed against his face as he trotted across the street. The lights of the Dubois house were off, save for the dim nightlight from the second story corner window. He knew that was Jazmine's room. She'd crept out several times to sneak over to Huey's house when she'd been scared or unable to sleep before they'd gotten cell phones.

Despite her constant presence and the fact that she never stopped talking, Jazmine really wasn't that bad a friend. Actually, it was quite the contrary.

And she did make good company when he'd otherwise be alone, since Caesar had gone off on some foreign exchange program. He was okay with being alone, but her company did sort of brighten his oh-so-sunny disposition.

Sort of.

He silently scaled the side of the house and tapped three times on her window. Her frightened eyes appeared at the edge of the curtain and she pulled the window open.

"You scared me!" she hissed and let him in.

He landed softly on the floor and glanced around. "Alright, so what's the problem?" he asked quietly, then turned his eyes on her. She was wearing a massively over-sized t-shirt, long, baggy cotton pants, and she had a large pink blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was shaking.

"Eyes... there were eyes outside the window," she whispered.

"Which window?" he asked. She didn't answer at first, she was trembling so violently. He gripped her shoulder again to steady her. "C'mon Jazmine, you gotta tell me what happened."

"Well... first in the bathroom window. I was getting some water..." she trailed off, her eyes fixed on the floor.

"Then what happened?"

"I saw the red lights again but I didn't want to be scared, so I opened the curtain to make sure it was like a plane or something..." she inhaled sharply. "It was these great big _eyes_. They stared at me and then just... evaporated. So I ran into the bedroom to look and they were there again... staring... at me." She paused to take a steadying breath and went on. "Then I went to check the living room. They looked at me there too and then disappeared again so I ran upstairs and called you..."

"Did you check on your parents?" he asked. She didn't answer, and her silence confirmed that she had not. He nodded. "Alright, follow me. We're gonna check the house."

"You don't want me to wait here?"

"No," he said shortly, and pulled open her bedroom door silently. Leaving her behind was a poor idea. If she wasn't seeing things, and there really _was_ someone or something outside, then leaving her behind would mean trouble if he came back and she was gone. The pair of them crept into the hallway beyond. It was dim, save for the silver pools of moonlight that spilled in through a gap in the curtains. The light made the pictures on the walls and the vase on a table nearby gleam ominously. If Huey weren't so logical and rational, he might have been spooked by the eeriness of it all.

He peered around the corner of the stairs down into the living room below. It was silent as a mausoleum. The only sound he heard was Jazmine's labored breathing. He could tell she was on the brink of a panic attack. He'd have to deal with that in a moment. As they arrived at the landing of the stairs he motioned for her to pause as he listened again. The only other sound he could discern was the ticking of a clock somewhere steadily keeping track of the passing seconds.

"Show me where you saw the eyes," he whispered, almost inaudibly, to Jazmine. She pointed to the center living room window. The curtain of the window billowed in the wind. The window was open. He padded silently into the living room, his eyes scanning the shadows for anything remotely out of place. Aside from the open window, everything looked as perfectly neat as it had always been. Even since the day he'd first met the Dubois family, their house had been the pinnacle of the perfect suburban household: neat, well-decorated and sophisticated. Now it stood much as it always had, just somewhat ominous.

He turned silently in place, surveying the entire room, wine-colored eyes still scanning the darkness. The sound of Jazmine's shortening breaths made him turn back again to face her. She was shaking uncontrollably and visibly, even in the dim light. He stepped closer to her and gripped her shoulder with his right hand. "Hey, calm down," he whispered. She was unable, and he placed a hand on her other shoulder. "Jazmine, c'mon. You gotta calm down," he urged. Her jade eyes caught his and she inhaled slowly.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

"Don't be sorry, let's just check around one more time and then try to get some sleep." Normally Huey wouldn't have been so patient with the girl. Lord knew he hadn't been patient before with anybody, much less this overly-emotional girl who followed him around like a lost puppy. But now seemed different, though he wasn't sure why. He looked her over for what felt like an eternity, taking in every detail of the way the moonlight made her eyes gleam and her long puffy hair almost shine. He realized he'd been staring a few seconds too long and released her quickly. Were it not so dark, she might have seen tinges of red on his dark skin.

And then someone screamed. The shriek punctuated the air violently. "MOM!" Jazmine cried, and she and Huey dashed up the stairs. He took them two at a time and made it to the top quickly, throwing open the door. He wasn't quite prepared for what he saw inside the master bedroom where Tom and Sarah slept.

* * *

><p>Mrs. McPhearson was well-known for many things. Amongst them was her adulterous nature, drug addictions, and the near-divorce with her pushy, insensitive husband. And of course, her penchant for nosing in on the neighbors and spreading gossip. So when a scream went up in the middle of the night, she was curious. Of course she wasn't sleeping. While her husband was watching copious numbers of other women exposing their flesh on camera and satisfying himself, she had been busy in the living room with white powder and a mirror. She peered out her window and saw a light on in the Dubois house and giggled.<p>

Partly because she was high.

In such a circumstance, any sane, normal human being would first attempt to see if their neighbor was well and that no one was injured. That was not what Mrs. McPhearson did. Instead, she sat there for several long, agonizing minutes, simply staring through the blinds as more lights flickered to life and noise drifted down the street.

The next thing she did was pick up the phone. She dialed the numbers so quickly her hands blurred.

"You will not believe what's going on at the Dubois house!" she whispered excitedly. As she yammered away, Cindy peered over the railing from her bedroom door. Her mother's voice certainly carried a long way and had woken the young girl from her pleasant dreams.

"Hey mam, what's goin' on?" she asked tiredly. Her mother prattled on idly for several minutes before she decided to answer.

"Go back to sleep dear, just some noise down at the Dubois place," she said nonchalantly. The fourteen year old girl stared at her mother, dumbstruck.

"An' all you're doin' is _gossiping_?" Cindy said incredulously. "Mam, you a hoe." And with that she disappeared back into the darkness of her room.

Mrs. McPhearson sighed heavily. "Listen, Tamara, let me call you back. I need to call the police, but I'll let you know _everything_. Thanks doll."

* * *

><p>Sarah Dubois was already out of bed by the time Huey and Jazmine burst through the door. She was yanking on a robe, and shaking violently. Huey spoke first. "Mrs. Dubois, what-"<p>

"Mom what happened?"

"Where's Mr. Dubois?"

Tears were streaming down the blonde woman's face as she pointed a trembling hand at the empty spot in the bed where Tom usually slept. It was soaked in a puddle of blood. The sheets were tattered and sheared as well, but it was localized damage. The only tears were where the blood and spread to. Whatever had happened, it would have been violent. What Huey couldn't understand is how something like that had gone on unnoticed with Sarah sleeping soundly right beside him.

"D-Daddy?" Jazmine stammered, shivering once again, her eyes fixed on the bed.

Huey looked from Jazmine to Sarah to the bloodstain and asked slowly, "Mrs. Dubois, what happened?"

She gulped. "He... I don't know..." she sobbed. "He was there when I fell asleep and I woke up to... to use the bathroom and... he... he..." She collapsed, sinking to her knees and sobbing on the floor. Huey swallowed. Pain was something he was used to, but he had never really been good and comforting those who suffered. The same was true now as both of the Dubois women were in tears. He exhaled hard. He wasn't even good at small talk, how was he supposed to comfort two wildly upset women? And with the bloodstain in Tom's bed, that seemed to be the least of their problems.

Jazmine was just as upset as her mother, but her reaction was quite different. Instead of falling to the floor, she clutched the front of Huey's shirt and sobbed into the cotton fabric. He patted her shoulder awkwardly.

And then the sirens started. He moved to the window and peered out, seeing a pair of cop cars arrive just outside the house and four officers rush to the door.

"Listen, Mrs. Dubois, you need to get up and get the door," he said, trying to pull the hysterical woman to her feet. "If you don't, they'll think it's suspicious and break down the door. C'mon..."

The woman looked up and nodded. "You... you're right. Let me take care of the police. You should go Huey. You know what they'll think with you here, and Jazmine... and with Tom missing..."

He didn't respond at first. He looked down at Jazmine, who was still clutching the front of his shirt and staring up at him, pleading in her eyes. He sighed. "Leaving with the cops at the door would be a bad idea," he said. "We'll stay upstairs until they're gone, then we'll talk about this." He glanced down to see the mulatto girl's eyes brighten just a bit, and they crept into Jazmine's room. Huey listened as Sarah rushed down the stairs and allowed the police into the house. Their voices drifted up through the stairwell.

Jazmine sat on the bed, her head held in her hands. "Huey... I'm afraid..."

He leaned against the wall, standing only a foot from where she sat. "I know," he said quietly. He wasn't sure what else to say. Her delicate hand reached out and slipped softly into his. He swallowed, and they sat in silence for several long, merciless minutes. He felt the heat spread across his face again.

"Huey?" she said softly.

"Hm?"

"Do you think... my dad's gonna die?" she whispered. He was quiet again. "Huey?"

"The longer he stays missing..." he started, trailing off for a moment. "The longer he stays missing, the less likely it will be to bring him home alive." She started to tremble all over again, so he quickly added, "But it'll be alright. We'll find him."

She didn't say anything at first, and then murmured, "You think so?"

"I don't lie."

"I know."

"I promise I'll help you find him." They lapsed into silence once again, and he felt her tug on his hand. She pulled him to sit down on the bed beside her. It dawned on him that he'd never really spent much time alone with any girls besides Jazmine, and he'd never actually been on the same bed with a girl. He guessed he was mostly delayed in that respect. He never thought about girls. Hell, he never thought about half the things that boys his age thought about. He always had more pressing matters to attend to. But now...

Well, now he was sitting in bed with a fear-ridden and grief-stricken teenage girl and he was suddenly very aware of his status as a hormonal teenager. Of all the inappropriate timing...

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Huey. You're a really good friend."

He nodded but didn't speak.

Distantly he heard the front door close and the slamming of car doors. The police had finally left. He could hear Sarah ascend the stairs and turn the knob on Jazmine's door.

"So what happened?" Huey asked calmly. Jazmine lifted her head and her hair brushed against his ear. He almost winced at the feeling, but his face didn't betray his thoughts.

"I showed them the blood. They wanted to talk to Jazmine but I said she was sleeping... filed a missing person's report, they'll start looking for him..." It looked like it was all she could do to retain what little composure she'd gained. Though she hadn't asked why Huey had been in her house in the middle of the night, it didn't seem to matter in light of the situation. He figured it was better off than questions and accusations like his grandfather had tossed around.

She sniffled. "I... I'll be sleeping on the couch. You two... let me know if you need anything. And don't let your grandfather catch you over here at this hour," she said, mirth entering her voice for a fraction of a second before the sadness sank back in again, and she vanished back into the hallway. He heard her begin sobbing as she returned back down the stairs.

Jazmine closed the door again. She looked like she was about to apologize again, and he'd heard her say "sorry" far too many times for things she had no reason to apologize for. He held up a hand.

"Before you apologize _again_," he said, "I want you to know that I agreed to come over here. Don't apologize." She nodded silently. "Get some sleep Jazmine. I know it'll be hard, but you'll need the rest. School isn't going to be easy if you don't get any sleep."

"Okay..." she whispered, and once again wrapped her arms around his neck.

And again, he patted her awkwardly on the back.

"I'll check on you tomorrow." With that he slipped back out the window and vanished, descending to the street below to sneak back into bed before anyone noticed his oddly-timed absence.


	3. Foreboding: Gang Violence

_**Flesh and Bone**_

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><p><em>AN: Sorry about the late update. The last year has been a bit hectic, but I'm updating regularly I think, finally. It'll probably be once a week, once every two weeks at the latest, now that I have a steady schedule again. Thanks to everyone so far for the reviews, they're very much appreciated!  
><em>

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><p><strong>Foreboding - Gang Violence<strong>

* * *

><p>Riley Freeman was not what anyone, by any stretch of the imagination, would call an "intellectual." In fact, he probably didn't even know what the term meant, and would be offended if it were used to describe him. He was, however, a spectacular schemer. Ever since they'd moved into the neighborhood, Riley and the girl down the street, Cindy McPhearson, had plotted various ways to "take over their hood" and several fabulous get-rich-quick schemes. Few had worked out, save for their ventures into candy sales and some shady dealings with some down-and-out rappers.<p>

But they did alright, so it wasn't really anything to complain about. Together, they were the baddest pair in all of Woodcrest. It really wasn't hard to do though, seeing as how 98% of the population was rich white kids without the faintest inkling of what it meant to be gangsta. So when Riley and Cindy declared that Woodcrest was their turf, no one really complained (mostly because no one understood what they were going on about).

So you might imagine that it came as somewhat of a shock when another boy and a group of his friends decided to cash in on the "gangsta image" and challenged Riley and Cindy for their turf. The first few weeks of their bitter rivalry had Riley ten shades of pissed at all waking hours of the day, and his bad mood in turn rubbed off on Huey, who was forced to put up with his younger brother's foul attitude. It became so bad, in fact, that Huey, who was typically dour and unsociable at best, was in an awful state by the time he met up with Jazmine the next morning in their Classical Literature class.

"Hey, do you have-"

"Why do you ask a billion questions?" he snapped. She blinked, taken aback at his sudden harshness, and turned to face the front of the room.

"Sorry..." she muttered. As he looked at her, he saw that she'd been crying. And he didn't blame her. He pressed three fingers to his temple.

"I... didn't mean to snap," he mumbled. "Riley's been gettin' on my nerves."

"What do you mean?"

"Some stupid turf war, he bitches about it every damn day."

Jazmine nodded with understanding and fell silent as the bell rang. They'd have more time to talk later. The hour passed in a blur, and Huey only made a few minor remarks to the teacher, who had to wonder if the boy was feeling ill. As they walked to their lockers to change books for American History, Jazmine was silent and kept her gaze fixed on the floor. It had been three days since her father's disappearance. As far as Huey could tell, she was holding up alright, considering the circumstances. But she wasn't doing that great. He cleared his throat and her head shot up, startled.

"Jazmine, if you need to talk about it..." he started slowly. She fixed her large green eyes on him, but something else had caught his attention. Just down the hall, where Riley's locker was, he spotted his younger brother and Cindy, both in the company of _cops_. Or rather, instead of the uniformed cops they usually dealt with, they appeared to be detectives. What could they be investigating that involved Riley? Obviously there was a number of things, but Riley didn't get involved in homicide... he didn't think anyway. And those detectives were _definitely_ not investigating something stupid like graffiti.

"What is it, Huey?" Jazmine asked quietly as she pulled her locker door open.

He nodded his head towards Riley and the detectives. "C'mon, I wanna talk to Riley before class." With that he shut his locker door and wove his way through crowds of students, Jazmine in tow. He waited until the pair of investigators vanished, and caught the tail end of his younger brother muttering to himself a stream of profanity before he approached, arms folded.

"What?" Riley shot at him disdainfully. "I ain't do nothin'."

"So what was that about?"

"They accusin' me of some shit I didn' do!"

"That being...?"

Riley huffed an irritated sigh. Cindy spoke up then instead. "So you know them li'l bitches that be treadin' on our turf?"

Huey suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "The rich white kid?"

"Yeah, so those cops was like, askin' if Riley had summat to do wid' da kid's disappearance."

Huey stared at Riley long and hard for several moments. "He disappeared?"

"Yeah, an' those bitch cops think it was _me_!"

"Well... was it?"

Riley's stare was an incredulous one. "No, nigga, damn! I thought at _least_ mah own _brother_ wouldn' accuse me o' shit!"

Huey rubbed his forehead. "I wasn't accusing you Riley, I was asking."

"Yeah well I didn' do nothin'," Riley grumbled. He pushed past Huey and Jazmine and started off down the hall with Cindy trotting along behind him. Huey glared after him, but didn't pursue after his brother. He'd have to look into it later. The warning bell went off, so Huey and Jazmine made their way to History class without another word. Jazmine glanced sideways at her friend as the pair took their seats. He looked exhausted. As far as she knew, from what Huey had told her, he'd been doing his own investigating, likely during the nights since midterms were upon them and they needed the daytime to study. So aside from being out searching for her father, he was being kept awake by Riley's constant bitching.

Needless to say, it put Huey in a right foul state.

History passed quickly, and they made their way next to Calculus, which passed just as quickly. A blur it was, really, which continued on through Intro to Physics. When lunch finally rolled around, Jazmine could have sworn it had only been fifteen minutes. Maybe _she_ was just tired. It was true that Huey was out investigating every night, but Jazmine didn't sleep much now. The fear kept her from doing so. To avoid sleeping at night, she'd started sleeping during the daylight hours, either right after school or when she had spare time during the afternoon hours. It wasn't a healthy schedule to maintain but she couldn't make herself sleep at night. If she did, what if she were to disappear too? Or her mother? She couldn't bear it.

The pair made their way out to the field as they always did and parked themselves beneath the willow tree. Huey had picked up a coffee from the cafeteria first, despite his distaste in giving the school his money, he needed it. The bags under his eyes said as much, and the pair sat in silence, Huey sipping the murky liquid and Jazmine taking small bites out of her home-made sandwich. They didn't speak much, preferring instead to sit in silence for the moment.

"So I hear Caesar is coming home soon," Jazmine said after several long minutes of unbearable quiet. Huey nodded, but remained silent. "So you think he might be able to help?"

"I talked to him on the phone," he replied slowly. "He said he was gonna check into some stuff, but he had a thought about it."

"How many people have gone missing?"

He silently counted in his head. "Counting the kid from today, that makes ten." She chewed her lip apprehensively, so he added, "The police have to start investigating soon, too. The more people looking, the more likely we are to find him." He was trying to be comforting, but he didn't figure it was helping much. She still looked as nerve-wracked as ever. He exhaled heavily and bit off a piece of his celery. Riley didn't appear to be joining them that day. He could be seen across the field, sitting on a picnic table beside Cindy. They were having what looked to be a heated conversation between themselves and a group of kids Huey didn't recognize. Judging by their appearance though, dressed in sagging pants, over-sized sweatshirts and covered in faux-gold "bling," they were probably part of the missing kid's crew.

So they were probably confronting Riley.

"Great," Huey mumbled. He'd get involved if he had to, but it seemed that Riley had it handled. He'd stood up, arms waving, probably telling them to fuck off, in more interesting terms, and that he hadn't had anything to do with the kid's disappearance. Whether or not this convinced the gang of wannabes he couldn't tell, but they stalked off none the less.

"You think that kid is linked with the others then?"

"I wouldn't rule it out."

The bell rang, warning students that class was set to begin again soon, so they stood and started their short trek back to the school building.

* * *

><p>Huey was stuck inside that night. A dark storm had rolled in around 5 pm, and searching that night in the torrential downpour that now dumped over Woodcrest would have been stupid. Any clues that he'd find out there would be almost invisible in the pitch black of the stormy night. Instead he was forced to hang out inside, sitting at his desk and staring vacantly out the window. His mind was somewhere far away, despite Riley's continued complaining. Huey tuned him out hours ago.<p>

Since beginning the search a few days ago, Huey had found very little to show where Tom had vanished to. Judging just from the blood on the bed and apparent struggle that had silently ensued, he hadn't just gone off willingly. Wherever he was, it was somewhere he couldn't escape on his own if he was still alive. But the culprit wouldn't have gone off too far, not if they wanted to keep taking people without difficulty. Whoever it was didn't seem to pick people in any real pattern. Or was there a pattern he wasn't seeing? Curious once again, he went back to his computer screen and starting writing out a spreadsheet to see if he could find any dots to connect.

The first person to disappear had been at the end of summer, a young accountant named Andrew Hodges, who had no criminal record, a large, loving family, and hardly an enemy to speak of. An unlikely target for a kidnapping, since his family really wasn't rich. Just a typical, middle-class suburban white family. All the rest didn't really have any similar pattern. Jose Martinez was a hard-working Mexican immigrant, legal and ethical too. He didn't have a family here except the wife and daughter he supported. He disappeared one week after Mr. Hodges vanished, but they were so dissimilar that no one bothered to consider that the two cases were related.

The non-pattern was true of all the others. James Jackson, a white loan shark. Patrick Jones, a black pastor. Annita Neilson, a latina high school student. Brandon Lee, a Chinese computer scientist. Marjori Little, an unemployed welfare mom. Justin Burns, high school student and professional asshole. Thomas DuBois, black attorney. And finally, the most recent disappearance, Trey Atkins, high school student. Aside from all living in the same general area, they really had nothing else obvious in common. Maybe it was someone they'd crossed paths with at some point?

He couldn't tell, not without interviewing families, and that would take a lot of time to do, if the families even talked to him. Maybe the pattern was that none of them had anything in common? He huffed a sigh of frustration. This was just too much to think about when he was running on so little sleep.

"Man ain't'chu listenin' to me?"

Huey cast a glare over his shoulder. "Hell no," he retorted. "Why would I wanna listen to you complain all damn night? I believe you, you're innocent, quit bitchin' about it."

Riley glowered at his older brother and sat down on his bed, arms folded indignantly over his chest. "Jeez, ain't gotta be a dick about it." Huey rolled his eyes. "What's that?" the younger Freeman boy asked, peering at the monitor. "You still try'na find Tom?"

"Of course I am."

"So what's wit' all the names?"

Huey pondered a moment. "I'm seeing if there's a connection to the other disappearances. If there is I might be able to track him down, or at least find some clues."

For the first time in a very long time, Riley seemed interested in his brother's words. "So like... if you fin' out who took 'em, you can figure out where they at?" he asked.

"Yeah maybe, I'm not really sure if I can figure out who took 'em though. There's not a pattern here."

"But like, if you _could,_ you could get the po-po off mah back."

So maybe Riley's interest was purely self-serving. Even still, another pair of eyes would definitely help him out. He'd take what he could.

"Sure," Huey replied, his voice resigned. "But we gotta find a pattern, or a trail or somethin', or else we're not gonna figure out shit."

Riley stared at the list and tapped his lower lip, thought flickering behind his wine-colored eyes. "What about... like, routines an' shit?"

"Huh?"

"You know, like on those cop shows Granddad watches. Serial killers pick out people who cross 'is path durin' the day."

Huey pondered that for a moment. It was possible, but unlikely.

"Or maybe it's a body type." Huey glanced at Riley quizzically. "Wull like, certain height, weight, shit like that."

"I need medical records to know that."

"So git 'em."

It wasn't beyond the scope of his abilities to hack into police records and medical databases. In fact, he'd done just that many times while he was still an active domestic freedom fighter (the FBI called him a terrorist, but labels didn't mean much to him) so it was entirely possible to do.

"I think I'm still being monitored by the FBI," Huey replied. "Can't do it from the house."

"So do it at the library, dayum nigga. I thought you was s'posed to be the smart one." Huey once again responded with an eye-roll.

"I'll try and do it at school tomorrow, but we're not gonna get a lot more out of this tonight," he said, and rubbed his face. He glanced out the window again, eyes staring through the murky abyss of the storm. Beyond what little the bedroom light illuminated, the street below was pitch black.

And then he noticed it. The light was reflecting off of something. Headlights? He squinted his eyes, willing them to see more, to make out the shape in the darkness. Was that a car? The shape was right. Someone was sitting out front of their house in a car. What they were doing though, well fuck if he knew.

Whoever was parked in that car apparently noticed that they'd been spotted, because it steered off and vanished down the street. "I think we're being watched."

"Nigga you paranoid."

* * *

><p>The rain had let up by the time the sun rose, and the clouds had dispersed by the time school started. Despite the heavy downpour, the temperature hadn't dropped even the slightest. Now it was hot <em>and<em> humid out, making the students even more miserable than before. Huey hated the persistent heat. The one good thing about moving to the Woodcrest area had been that it had four very distinct seasons, instead of only having a series of hot and cold seasons like other places might. But it was 90 degrees outside at the end of October.

Fuck it was hot.

Fortunately it was air-conditioned inside the school, so it wasn't quite so miserable. Their morning classes passed quickly enough. It was mostly review for the coming midterm exams, but Huey didn't pay attention. He didn't need to all that much, and his mind was on other things. On the other hand, Jazmine had been taking notes furiously. With all that was going on, and the panic she couldn't help feeling, it seemed like there was no way she could retain all that information without writing it down. She kept nervously asking questions, checking and double checking her information, and cramming more and more onto the already-saturated sheets of note paper.

Physics was the worst. At the best of times, she needed a little extra concentration to understand the lectures, but in her nerve-wracked state, it looked like she was cracking. It had been four days since her father had gone missing, so it was fortunate that the teacher took pity on her and sat her down to explain it all to her slowly. Even still, by the time the bell rang to signal lunch, she was almost in a fit.

"Huey I-I-I don't wanna fail," she muttered.

"Jazmine have you been sleeping?"

"Of course! I sleep... I sleep during... d-during the daylight hours."

He shook his head. "You _have_ to sleep, if you wear yourself down like this you're putting yourself in danger."

Her eyes glossed over. If she started crying he didn't know what he was gonna do. "I c-can't help it Huey, I can't sleep at night!"

"Calm down, alright? We'll figure something out. Right now let's go eat lunch. You need the energy."

She nodded fervently and followed along behind him, gripping the sleeve of his black t-shirt. "I-I-I should g-get a coffee."

"I don't think you should, caffiene will just make your nerves worse. Come on, let's go outside. Fresh air might do you some good."

The pair walked to the willow tree, where Riley and Cindy were already sitting. They'd apparently decided to join them today. "Hey," Cindy said through a mouthful of chips, which she was muching happily away at. Riley was leaning back against the tree, soda in one hand and piece of chicken in the other. Huey had to resist the urge to slap his palm to his forehead.

"H-hi," Jazmine replied, and plopped down on the ground beside the blonde-headed gangsta girl.

"Jazz I think you need ta sleep," Cindy said slowly, arching one eyebrow at the mulatto girl.

Huey waved the comment off. "We'll get to that later," he said, and pulled out a tupperware dish full of broccoli. "I'm gonna go to the library after school to see what I can find out about the disappearances."

"Then you gon' get the cops off mah back?"

"I told you, there's no guarantee they'll just back off if we come up with a link, we actually have to find them."

Riley scowled, but conceded. Instead of arguing, or furthering the discussion, he asked, "Hey, who's dat?"

He was pointing to a car. A black car. With black tinted windows. It was creeping down the street slowly, drawing closer like a shark. Huey wasn't a stranger to that sort of thing. He'd seen cars drive like that plenty of times in the hood when he and Riley had lived in Chicago with their parents before their deaths.

Riley noticed too. Both boys exchanged identical looks of disbelief and worry. "Shit," Huey hissed.

"Drive-by!" Riley shouted, grabbing Cindy around the head and pushing her down, covering her protectively. "DUCK!"

Sure enough, the sounds of gunshots were the next things to be heard. Huey yanked Jazmine down by her arm, pushing her behind him and shielding her with his body and covering his head with his free arm.

_BANG BANG BANG BANG_, the shooting went on for what felt like hours. Clicking signaled its end; they'd run out of bullets. The car squealed as it pealed out and shot off down the street.

"Is everyone alright?" Huey asked as they stirred, finally confident that the shooting was over.

"Yeah, we good," Riley said. His voice was a little shaky, but he seemed none the worse for wear.

Jazmine's nerves looked about fried. "Aw damn," Huey muttered. "Okay, I'm gonna take Jazmine home 'fore she snaps. You two get inside, an' make sure you don't do anythin' stupid."

"'Ey I don' wanna have to sit in school," Riley began to argue, but a stern look from his brother silenced him. "Aight fine, I'll go to stupid class." Defeated, he pulled Cindy up and folded his arms. "But I bet those bitch-ass niggas with that pussy who was treadin' on our turf were the ones in that car." With that they trotted off across the field for the school to the sounds of nearing police sirens. Someone had obviously called the cops.

Huey turned his attention back on Jazmine. She was shaking and she needed sleep, or she was gonna have a mental break. She didn't seem to be in any fit state to walk on her own, so he gripped her hand and pulled her to her feet. Her whole body was trembling.

"God damn it," Huey grumbled, then picked her up. She wasn't very heavy. By estimation, the heaviest part of her was likely her mass of curly, poofy hair. She'd probably lost a few pounds over the last few days too. He trotted with her down the street, still shaking and raggedly breathing. Being _shot_ _at_ probably didn't help her any. The heat wasn't good for her either. He strode silently down the street, with only her shuddering breathing to listen to. Huey sighed.

The door of her house was locked, so he rang the bell. He heard the scraping of Sarah unlocking the deadbolt and the door swung open. She didn't look much better off than her daughter, but she wasn't quite as much a wreck. Her hair was a bit of a mess, and her eyes were red with tears. She'd stopped bothering to put makeup on, since it would only be smudged once the tears came again. Her glossy blue eyes fixed on Huey, then Jazmine.

"What happened?" she asked.

"There... was a drive-by at the school," he answered slowly and honestly. Huey never sugar-coated anything. Honesty was probably his most endearing quality, the most consistent thing anyone would be able to rely on. Sarah stared at him with mingled shock and confusion. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

"C-come in," she stammered and moved to allow him entrance. "What happened? Are you okay? Are either of you hurt?"

"No we're fine," he replied and carried Jazmine into the house. The girl was still shaking. "I don't think she's slept in days. I'm gonna take her upstairs and put her to bed."

Sarah swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes... yes that's a good idea. Thank you so much for looking after her, Huey."

"Sure," he said simply, and made his way up the stairs to Jazmine's room. The door was ajar, so he nudged it open with his foot and carried her through the doorway to the bed, where he lay her gently. He draped a blanket over her gingerly and turned to leave, but her delicate hand caught his.

"Wait... stay until I fall asleep," she breathed. "Please?"

He sighed with resignation. "Fine," he said, and sat down beside her on the bed. He'd go once she fell asleep and do more digging, but for now, he'd stay. She needed the company anyway.


End file.
